ing Embers 



BY 



liter En gelbert Maurer 




Class 

Book 

Copyright!^ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



Out of the Glowing 
Embers 

By 
Walter Engelbert Maurer 









Copyright by 

Walter Engelbert Maurer 

1917 






87927 



This collection is respectfully dedicated to 
Mrs. Julia Hancock Sawyer and her adora- 
ble Mother, whose appreciation of my efforts 
has been my inspiration. 

W. E. MAURER. 



CONTENTS 

Out of the Glowing Embers 7 

In Sunset Valley 9 

To-Night 10 

Alone ii 

Flower of Yesterday . , « 12 

Beyond the Beast 15 

Jaquelin 16 

Fragments 18 

Little Boy that Lives in a Flat 20 

Along Life's Roadway 21 

Inspiration 24 

A Surprise 25 

Celestra 27 

My Heart's Affinity 29 

Now that You are Gone 30 

Woman 31 

Long Ago 32 

Love's Garden 33 

Ode to My Lady's Ears 34 

Eyes of the Night 35 

Will O' the Wisp 36 

Visitation 38 

Little Blossom at My Feet 39 



Out of the Glowing Embers. 

Out of the glowing embers, that still 

Burn with the fires of yesternight, 
They come, these little dancing elves of memory, 

To stay for a moment, Life's petulant flight. 

1 am in a night of my own creation, and about me, 
Lies the fathomless dusk of the soul's Play-land, 
A world where dreams live true, and Time sleeps peacefully. 

There, sombre walls enclose me safely, and I am king 
Of all this strange domain, while fleeting shadows 

Pass swiftly and silently, like grim sentinels 
Of my secluded kingdom of darkness. 

Still I do not reign alone, for on the golden throne 

Above the hearth, the queen of my heart 
Smiles all honor into my dreaming eyes. 

Now a blood-red flame softly kisses the lips 
Half hidden beneath a downy veil, that wreathes 

About her brilliant face, alike the burning love 
My lips once placed upon her own. 

Her eyes are violet waters, in the ruddy fire's light, 
And my soul is lost upon their sea, happily mad, 

Living again the days of Loves delights, and feeling again 
Each tender caress that kept my heart aflame til yet. 

No more a king am I, for now her radiance dims my glory, 
And I pale into the shadows, once more an humble subject. 

Once more I whisper all my homage into her ears, 
Pleading with a greater passion than the death-love 

Of the Goddess Echo, and scorning all the love tales 
The envious Boreas brings from out the north. 



Now, her lips are smiling sweetly, and I again, 
Am chosen for her love, as of the yestersummers. 

Out of the glowing embers, I feel the warm arms 

Reaching and folding me in their tender clasp, and I 
Hear in distant rhapsodies, love promises of to-morrows. 



The glowing embers are no more, and about me, 
Shadows sleep as one, and slumber creeps into my eyes. 

The winds alone perturb the night, and the gray 
Ashes of my dreams, lie cold. 




In Sunset Valley. 



Gentle heart, you lie so subtly there, 

While melodies of angels softly clothe 
Your dreams that have no care. 

Dreams, so sweet, they miock the perfumed breath 

Of valley lilies, that pour their lives 
Upon the midnight air above your breast, aye, 

Dreams that make it life stead death. 

Now I stand so wearily alone, here at your 

Slumbering side, hearing your voice only 
In the songs of birds, while the night winds 

Sometimes whisper your sweet name to me. 
Ah ! Loved One ! How I have sought you among the 

Glittering stars, but O, so vainly, 
For only my heart can see ! 

Your eyes light the night somewhere with their 
Soft glow; your lips, you gave to me in one last 

Kiss ; God took your breath and gave it to some rare 
Flower, that it's fragrance might forever sweeten 

A summer's day. 

Thru the meadows have I wandered, hoping there, 
To find your dear face, but every blossom merely bows 

Its head, and dewdrops fall so tearfully from out 
Their tender hearts, that I pass on, my heart 

Aching the more at this gentle sympathy. 

You came into my life, as the bud upon the rose bush, 
And after you had bloomed in fragrant beauty, 

And filled my being with all that was, you folded 
Your life as softly as the morning glory, 

And stole beyond the hills with the sunset. 



To-Night. 



The moonlight casts the children's shadows on the street, 

And thru the darkened trees, I see them play, 
And hear, the patter of their little feet, 

For bedtime's near. 
The day, 

So full of childish joy 
Has passed, so, 

One by one they go, 
Each little weary boy, 

To his dream-laden trundle bed, 
That waits the pressure and the silken threads 

Of each little tousled head, 
So tired ... 

Now, everything is still, and lo ! 

Upon the stairs below, 
My shadow falls alone, 

The silver of the moon is everywhere, 
But still I moan 

Your absence, for you're not there. 
My arms are held out just for you 

My love, 
But only winds of night pass thru 

From skies above. 



10 



Alone. 

When all the woodland stills to sleep 

In twilight's dreamy shadows, 
And birds have hushed 
To welcome peace 

With dusk that clothes the meadows, 

Tis then it seems my heart must break 

For then 'tis most I miss 
Your soft warm hands 
My own would take 

And lips that were mine to kiss. 

When o'er the woodland comes the dawning 

Of another weary day, 
And the gloom of night is waning 

With it's birth of yesterday, 

'Tis now my heart is bitter sadness 

As I gaze o'er life's abyss, 
For only love 
Can replace gladness 

From lips that I loved to kiss. 



11 



Flower of Yesterday. 



'Twas a blossom of yesterday 

Pressed in a book, 
'Twas a memory pressed away 

In my mind's hidden nook. 
Pressed away safely, but its life 

Gone at last, 
Leaving faint fragrance of a love 

That had passed. 

There on the mossy bank, we would while away hours 

Crowded with our simple love, 
While summer played about us. 

The birds shared our happiness 
And sang songs that only lovers could understand. 

Even the wild flowers opened their bright petals 
That we might see the hearts that gave so sweetly 

From their lives. 
The brook below us murmured on, singing ever 

Its own song of life. 
And that we might not mistake its eager rush 

For turbulent flight, 
It whirlpooled joyously, and sent its silver spray 

Through the sunlight to greet us. 
But yonder in the shadow of the bridge, 

It flowed on softly and silently, 
Meditating the day it must echo the footsteps 

Of my departing love. 
So one day, I found the flower dearest to my heart 

As innocently white as my love for her, 
And at dusk, while the night-birds cooed their 

Little ones to silence with strange lullabies, 
I offered the blossom's life and mine withal, 

And placed them at her shrine. 

12 



The flower in a vase she placed, and in my 

Arms herself, and gazing down, this blossom 
Became the open-petaled witness to our kiss. 

In our embrace, I felt the beating of but one heart, 
Forgetting that sorrow could play discord on its strings, 

But love that night, had tuned them to one song. 
And so the melody sang its way softly into my life, 

And the days were blue-bright, 
With no storm clouds in the sky to cast dark shadows. 

Deep in an August eve, when the stars 
Danced their brightest, HE came, and like a thief 

In the night, stripped my heart of its treasure. 
So I fled through the curtain of darkness 

Angry with my own soul, 
Seeking the mossy bank that had fostered our love, 

And there in its comforting velvet, 
I poured out my bitterness, my tears mingling with 

The dew upon its tender breast. 
Then along the roadway, that had known only the pressure 

Of our feet, I heard the coming of my end, 
Up to the bridge they came, she casting only a fleeting 

Glance at the birthplace of our one-time 
Happiness, seeing nothing of the tattered heart 

Its darkness held, and which she had left to die. 
At last the moody silence of the deep, dark 

Brook was broken, alike my heart, 
For up through the blue-black emptiness, 

Came the mocking echo of my departing all. 
Its prophecy fulfilled in one last cruel jest, 

The murmuring brook gushed on, 
Telling my tale to myriads of water-children 

Playing restlessly in its crystal depths. 
Once again, the voice of yesterday, or perhaps 

'Twas the familiar fragrance of some shrub 
That led me once more to the spot 

Where my heart lay buried, 

13 



And as I gazed about, seeking to recognize 

A blossom or a blade that had known my touch 
Of days ago, or the melody of her laughter, found 

That all my little friends had passed 
To Mother Earth, as had my hopes, in silence. 

Once again, I looked before me for the silver water, 
But neither murmur nor a ripple, fell upon my ears, 

For the friendly brook had ceased its merry life 
A long time since, and had forgotten the cruel echoes 

Its surface had thrust unintending into 
A love-bruised heart. 

Now a vision of all loveliness sought 
A place with the mist in my warm eyes, 

For on yonder bank, reclining 
On the bridge-rail, I saw Aronym, fair and of a beauty 

Not as the eye could see, but as 
She lived within my secret heart, 

Her eyes were seeking a lost something 
Among the stars, and as a starlight's gleam 

Flashed within them, I saw unhappiness 
Which turned my bitter sadness sweet, for I knew 

That we were one in sorrow, though the bridge 
Must stand between, and we must be apart. 

Then as the moon-gleams fell upon her, 
I saw her crush a faded blossom to her lips, 

And two hot tears fall sparkling 
Into the parched abyss below. 

Twas the companion of my love that felt 
Her kiss, and the pent-up want of me, that welled 

And fled in glittering haste from out 
Their troubled skies of blue. 

Twas a blossom of yesterday, 

Pressed to her lips, 
'Twas a memory pressed away 

With its lost honey sips ; 
Pressed away safely, but its 

Life gone at last 
Leaving faint fragrance 

Of a love that had passed. 

14 



Beyond the Beast. 



The Master's hand touched here and there, 

And flowers grew and perfumed, as darkness 
Ceased, and Life began all o'er the earth 

When He had finished with the beast, 
And in His image He then made His masterpiece, 

Marvelous Man, who must father countless score, 
And by his side a woman placed, that they, 

Might reign all o'er this land, abloom 
With virgin splendor. 

To the man He gave a part of His wisdom, 
And to the woman, Love, so great that it might last 

Til earth's last gasps must sound the coming 
Of the end, and then to prove their worth 

To their Creator, God breathed a gift divine, 
Which we, hold soul, and He bade them guard 

Its sacredness, lest they 
Taste the bitterness of exile's night. 

So peace and sunlight danced in all this garden. 
Night came softly and rose the sun in east 

As gently; Love was law, and ruled supreme 
As did these two, o'er birds and beasts 

And all things breathing. 
But man outgrew his love and generous self, 

And soon his wants were unappeased, 
Unlike the wolf who kills to eat his fill, 

Man broke the law and plunged beyond the beast. 
Now there they stand, two mothers sons of them 

And brother men, with knives unsheathed 
Athirst for blood from out some mother's tender heart, 

Unheeding, that each thrust, is one more gash 
That bleeds in anguish in the breast 

That waits beyond the craters of destruction. 
O, where in all this wanton death, with all its dead 

Lost sight to mothers' anxious eyes; 
O, tell me, where in all this carnage wrought, 

Is the cause so justified, that man must doom his soul 
And place himself beyond the beast, without a God? 



15 



Jacquelin. 

(To a Charming Two-Year-Old Child.) 

God had a beautiful thought one day 

And He smiled this thought into being, 
While the angels about Him in gorgeous array, 

Marveled and wondered at what they had seen. 

But the Lord in His gentle and infinite way 
Admonished His hosts and bid them haste, 

For the soul He had breathed must have mortal clay, 

So they op'ed heaven's vaults, where its treasures were 
placed. 

One angel stole out and took from the dawn 

All the gray from out its hue, 
To color the eyes of the creature unborn, 

Which she warmed with a whisp of blue. 

Another soared forth to a distant star 

And gathered in her wings all its light, 
To place in the eyes of gray, afar, 

That heaven might shine out bright. 

With a bit of gold that they drew from the sun 

The cherubs spun into hair, 
And the gold-brown floss which they had begun 

Others curled on the moonbeams there. 

Then they molded with tender finger tips 

An exquisite nose to her face, 
While the loveliest angel offered her lips 

And softly kissed them into place. 

"If heaven would shine from her eyes," one cried, 

"Her lips must show it the while; 
Pray, give her my joy, for sorrow can't hide 

Behind just an earthly smile." 

16 



"Aye, truly," a sagely seraphim sighed, 

"We have made her of heavenly graces, 

But I give all my kindness and wisdom to guide 
This child through the earth's dark places." 

"Hasten," the Archangel Michael said, 

" Tis time for its life to begin. 
What will ye name it, this silken head?" 

And the chorus sang, "Jacquelin." 




17 



Fragments. 



Through the purple gloaming 

Gleams Venus majestically alone, 
While in the far off west, 

The rose-pink afterglow 
Of the setting sun, 

Nestles gently on the straggling 
Cloud-blooms, that linger to receive its 

Good-night kiss, in the deepening blue. 

There I stand, 

Between the star's young life, 
And the folding of the sun's gold wings, 

Holding in my hand, a great white rose, 
Whose fragrance is the memory 

Of your life in mine, 
And the sweet dying breath of hope, 

Of what might have been. 



Eagerly, my footsteps sought the secret spot, 

Where the air breathed of her alone, 
And there, I waited in the shadow of a tall tree 

Beneath, where the diamonds scintillated 
Gloriously, in their bed of velvet blue. 

Moments passed . . . moments of dim silence, 
When, somewhere in the gloom, I heard a rustling, 

O, so gently, as of the folding 
Of a night bird's wings, closed up for slumber. 

And peering into the darkness, I saw, 
What might have been a phantom, passing swiftly on, 

But my heart the wiser schooled, was not deceived, 
It knew the flutter of white, 

Twas . . . she ! 



18 



The very nearness of her 

Sets my heart aflame, to annihilation, 
And as truly as love is the perfume 

Of the blossoming soul, 
So, is my life, a lingering moment 

Of subtle fragrance, 
When her words, "I love you," 

Melt into the moonbeams. 




19 



Little Boy that Lives in a Flat 

Poor little fellow that lives in a flat 
How will Santa know where he's at? 

How will he find the little Boy's heart 

When the chimney that's absent, keeps them apart? 

Where will he hang his stocking that night 
And keep it within the old fellow's sight? 

He has no fireplace, spacious and brown 
For old St. Nick to come sliding down. 

Poor little fellow that lives in a flat 

How will Santa Claus know where he's at? 

But Santa is wise, tho' he's big and fat — 
He'll find the boy who lives in the flat. 

They say he's not true, and it's all a myth, 
But they don't know who they're trifling with. 

If he can come sliding from the flue to the floor, 
He surely can walk through the big front door. 

But the boy remembered what his daddy had said 
That night when he tucked him away in his bed, 

That Santa will find every good little boy, 
To fill their hearts with presents and joy. 

For Santa is wise, tho' he's old and fat, 
And he'll find the boy who lives in the flat. 



20 



Along Life's Roadway. 

Tottering, she came, 

Burdened with years 
That were all too full 

With Life's sad song. . . , 



''Mother, why come ye alone, 

Have ye no son 
To help thee o'er the weary way?" 

The eyes, that were not eyes, 

But merely folds, one oer the other, 

Looked up into my questioning own — 

Eyes, that were lost amid the countless furrows 

Time, had carved upon her face. . . . 

"Young sir, we come alone, my soul and I, 

But when I fall along the wayside, 
Angels whisper strength into my withered frame, 

And I struggle on again." 

Came a smile, yet all too young 

For its grim setting, 
Smoothing out a thousand wrinkles. . . . 

Up through the crust of age 
It came, out of fragile Youth, 

The one fresh blossom of Life's Springtime, 
That its Winter could not chill. 

"Please, kind sir, I hunger 

And these few pence are my all." 

Mother, whence came ye, 

Hast thou no home, 
No fire-side wherewith to warm thy failing limbs?" 

21 



The gray head bowed a moment, 

Straggling strands showed thinly there, 

Each one, a gray ash of some forgotten, 
Burned-out Summer of Life's calendar. 

"Ah, young sir, there was a time, 

When Youth was proud to claim me for its queen, 
But that time passed, as all time does, 

And that same pride that held me in respect, 
Cast me, from the heart of my own Life's blood !" 

And then a tear welled in the eyes 

That were not eyes, 
But merely folds, one o'er the other, 

Welled, and then o'erflowed, and vanished, 
Lost amid the countless furrows 

Time had carved upon her face. 

"Mother, ye shall eat 

From what morsels I possess. 
Truly, 'tis not much, nor is it mine 

To give or keep, but God's, 
Who loaned them, just to share 

With one less blessed than I." 

And as I watched the morsels 

Eagerly become no more, 
My heart sobbed full within me, 

And a mist enclosed my eyes, 
Yet to see, were useless, for I knew 

That hunger, merciless hunger 
Had almost gnawed its way into her soul. 



O, God ! With what great grace are we endowed, 

This mundane dust! 
To do Thy will, and with a crust 

Give all Thy generous love away, 
And call it kindness of our own ! 

22 



"Young sir," the voice unsteady came, 
"Your goodness I can ne'er repay, 

But take these few pence, and my thanks — 
They are but words, and yet 

I can only ask Gods blessing on thy head." 

"Say no more, poor mother, 

This little kindness I have done, 
Brings me happiness that needs no thanks." 

And then the smile so childish young, 

Softened its grim setting, 
Smoothing out a thousand wrinkles. . 

Up through the crust of age 
It came, out of fragile Youth, 

The one fresh memory of Life's Springtime, 
That its Winter could not chill. 

"Mother, where go ye now, 

Thy footsteps leave no echo, 
Art thou at home, at last, that ye do not answer?' 



Softly, she went, 

As a song upon the air, 
Leaving in my arms alone, the years unburdened 

Of Life's sad song. 



23 



Inspiration. 



She does not know, 

My Little Perfumed Well of Hopes, 
That in her blue eyes 

I see the bright heavens of happy yesterdays. 

Nor does she guess, 

That in their depthless gaze, 
I've found the secret path that ends among the stars, 

Bestrewn with petals of joy-filled hours. . . . 
So, comes inspiration. 



She does not dream, 

My Joyous, Babbling, Laughing Brook of Youth, 
That in her dimple, 

I see Joy and Sorrow mingling 
In the mad whirlpool of Life. 

Nor does she guess, 

That in her Love-born smile 
I see the strength of Angels 

Holding care beyond its rim. . . . 
Here lies my source of inspiration. 



She has no thought, 

My White Rosebud of Innocence, 
That in her heart, 

I see the sweetness of all heaven 
Nestling gently there. 

Nor does she doubt, 

In all her tender love for me, 
But that I'm worthy of her simple trust, 

As good as man could ask, or God would have. 
What greater inspiration? 

24 



A Surprise. 



The summer breezes called me 

And I fled to their appeal, 
For they showed me hidden wood-paths 

With their secrets to reveal, 
And my heart was light and airy 

As I sped with nimble feet, 
Through the vastness of the forest 

Sweet with flowers, the glades replete. 
And when once within its peaceful haunts, 

Where the moon filtered through the trees 
I stopped, all breathless for a space, 

As one who from some sorrow flees. 
The spot was all too soft with rest, 

For me to haste and wander on, 
So in the warm sweet moss I sank, 

Inhaling deep from odorous fronds. 
And as I lay in careless calm, 

Quaffing in the delightful sig'ht, 
Out of the depths of velvet green, 

Sped a fawn into the silent light. 
Tense his nostrils sniffed the air, 

His silken skin aquiver, all afright 
With ears perched high for lurking danger 

And to prove his subtle scent aright; 
Full his eyes were now upon me, 

Luring all my breath away, 
For I knew when once he saw me, 

Nothing could his flight delay. 
But such was not, and proved me wrong, 

And O, the courage of the pretty thing! 
All timidity lost in its wildness, 

For I no fear could bring. 
O, my heart was joyous and elated 

As I watched in anxious hope, 

25 



While the beauteous creature neared me, 

Nibbling choicely, tender shoots upon the slope. 

Now I felt its warm breath on my cheek, 

And reaching out my arms to place about its neck- 

The darn thing jumped right up and kissed me, 
Twas my own Scotch collie ! 
I had dreamt, by heck! 




26 



Celestra. 

O, Fancy, or strange Death, 

Send forth your guide again 
That I may tread the star-paths 

To Empyrea's gates, and when, 

I shall have reached the portals 

Of that elysian place, 
Once more my love-starved eyes shall see, 

The wonder of her face. 

Once more my soul shall feel 

A thrill no mortal knows, 
Where e'en the tiniest star-kissed blossom 

Bows in shame the earthly rose; 

O, let me gaze my burning soul 

Into her dream-filled eyes 
That lend the stars their wondrous light, 

And blue to the depthless skies. 

O, let me watch the moonbeams, 

Dance in their sacred play 
On her snow-swept cheeks like lilies 

That kiss each vagrant ray, 

O, give me to drink, till my heart runs riot 

With a deluge of honey drips, 
To still my soul in the carmine fount 

Of love that I steal from her lips. 

Let my eyes go blind with the glittering gold 

Of the sunset in her hair — 
Crush me again in that perfumed embrace, 

And let me lie breathless there. . . . 



27 



I am calling to you in the sigh of the winds, 
My love's in the breath of the rose : 

I stand at the edge of this tear-rimmed world 
And wait for the day to close. 

O, Celestra! Goddess! Vision or Real! 

To you in the living I'm led ... . 
O, take me to you while life yet holds, 

Or do you but wait for the dead? 



28 



My Heart's Affinity. 



Somewhere, in this vast meadow 

Of the earth, 
There blooms, in great or less simplicity, 

The blossom of my soul. 
Each day, from out the nearby wooded depths, 

Kindly zephyrs waft me perfumed tidings 
Of its sweet existence, 

A breath out of its daily life. 
Oft nights, as I contemplate the stars, 

I wonder, if it sees 
My face reflected on their burnished silver; 

Or whether it droops its head 
In askance of the lowly blades beneath it, 

Questioning them all, 
As tho they might hear my footsteps falling, 

On my way to pluck it from its loneliness, 
And to crush it in happy death against my heart. 

And again I wonder, if 
Ere the sun of my life shall set, 

I shall come upon the path 
That will lead me to its sacred haunt, 

Or whether Fate shall deny me, 
The right to kiss its dying breath away. 

Yet, though my eyes may never feast 
Their fill of its untouched beauty, 

Nor my lips feel the cool kiss 
Of its rose-tipped petals, still, I know, 

That in the mellow sheen of the midnight moon. 
Our souls drift together in the sighing winds, 

And our lives are one. 



29 



Now that You are Gone. 

Now that you are gone from out my life, 
I love you the more. 

You took away your heart, yet you left the music 
Of your voice, thrilling ever in my ears. 

You took away your lips, but memory keeps 
Your parting kiss ever warm upon my own. 

No more your dark eyes gaze into mine, yet their last 

Glance seems ever to pursue me through the gloom I seek 
alone. 

Your hands have ceased to cool the burning of my brow, 

Still, in the midnight breezes, 
I feel their gentle touch again. 

You went from me like the sunset, and took my hopes 

Wiith you, leaving me to wander 
In a night that never passes. 

You took life's sweetest joys, and too my heart, 

Thinking that I could content myself 
With torturing memories of what I am denied; 

The right to love you only. 



30 



Woman. 

You are like a pond lily, far from the bank, 

I may feast upon its beauty with my eyes 
And delight my soul with its rare fragrance, 

Yet, it keeps itself ever beyond my reach. 

You keep your kiss from me, that its sweetness 

May never be lost as the pollen of a helpless blossom. 

You are silent lest I guess the secret that's 

Within your heart, not knowing that I have 
Read it a thousand times in your eyes. 

You give me naught but the sweetness of hope, 

Knowing in your woman's heart, that love burns 
Quickly, and its ashes are only vague dreams. 

Though your heart glow with a white love heat, 

You guard its warmth within your breast — 
Tis woman's weapon, and you strike to win. 

When you are near me, and my hands are folded over 
Your own, words only mar the velvet of the night, 

For the silence holds as much for me, as does the 

Heaven above for the starlings that play within its depths. 

One day the little god carved a bow, and after he 

Had bled a rose, he gave them both to you for lips. 

Your eyes so gray, peered strangely into my 

Questioning own, as though they sought an answer 

To the doubt within your heart, but they found faith 
There ,and you were satisfied. 



31 



Long Ago. 



st remember the dear, dead days gone by — 

The sweet, happy hours we spent, you and I; 
When together v/e roamed as the sun softly died 

Be3 T ond the gray hills where the whip-poor-will cried? 
Will those sweet, forgotten days come back once again 

And we roam once more the hillside and glen? 
Do the birds, still sing sweetly as in those summer days 

And the sun warm the woods with the same golden rays? 
Will you, dear, remember, when life's tide ebbs low 

Those dear, sweet., dead days of long, long ago? 



32 



Love's Garden. 



Dearest, as the days go by, 

My longing for you grows, and why 
I can not tell, but since we met, 

Your charming ways I can ne'er forget. 
The sweet, low voice and shy, fond glance 

That were for me alone, I know, for they entranced 
My soul that sped where just love dwells, 

And chimes of laughter like blending bells 
In fairy realms, rang in my ears, 

And as an unknown enter fears, 
I stood at a garden gate and breathed 

With exquisite pleasure the fragrance wreathed 
About this paradise of roses, 

Wherein a sacred air of love reposes; 
And so I fancied each rose a kiss — 

Each kiss a rose, and as I dreamt, 
Inhaled the perfume, and with each attempt 

To pluck a blossom, 
Failed, perchance, the sips 

Would be too many roses 
From their garden, your sweet lips. 



33 



Ode to My Lady's Ears. 

You sing of eyes that rival stars, 

Of ruby lips, when smiling there appears 

A string of pearls. . . . aye, but prettier by far 
Are my fair lady's shell-like ears. 

Hast heard the song the sea-shells keep, 

Of thundering waves against a rocky coast, 

Of mermaid's lullabies that hush to sleep 

Their mere-babes on the pillows of the deep? 

In all the songs the sea-shell tells, 

And all the lullabies the sea-nympths boast, 
There are no charms, there are no spells — 

My lady's deaf, her ears are only two pink shells. 



The tide of time has grayed her hair 
And left it waving thinly there, 

Faded stars; pale lips, of pearls are bare, 

Yet. beautiful are the ears of my lady fair. 



34 



Eyes of the Night. 



Each night, when dissipated clouds 

Have passed, I lie 
And gaze in silent awe, 

Into the diamond scattered skies, 
In vain attempt, to fathom but one tiny light. 

But their frolic, too wary and confusing 
Seems, for my earth-born senses. 

And as I peer into the vapor blue, 
My eyes grow weary, with the celestial play. . . . 

So passes on the night. 
And when again I seek the play-mates of Hesperus, 

Find, that all have scampered on, 
Blurred to oblivion, 

Before the golden lash of fulgent dawn. 



35 



Will O' the Wisp. 



You let the soft light of your eyes 

Play upon my lonely life, 
Only to make me see the darker shadows. 

Your hands rested in gentle pressure 
Upon my own, not knowing that 
In their clasp you held my heart. 

You gave my lips to taste of unknown joys, 

Only to deny them, 
The future rapture of your kiss. 

I sought the most impervious gloom, 
That no one might see the chaos 

Of delight, into which you had plunged 
My being; there, I listened 

For the music of your laughter, 
But my ears were only pained 

By the sound of another's voice. 

When you called me, your voice changed 

The harsh sound of my name, 
Into a melody, so sweet, that I wished 

For no other song from your lips. 

You made me know the heaven of your smile, 

Only to let me feel 
The torment of the clouds of scorn 

That assailed its happy skies. 

You filled my life with the joys 

That were a part of your own, 
Yet, you kept your heart from me. 



36 



I stood beneath your window, gazing 

Eagerly upward, whilst the light 
Therefrom pierced the night like 

Golden bars, but none of their 
Brightness reached my gloomy soul, 

And the song you hummed was not for me. 

When you came into my life, my eyes 

Saw you ever amongst the rose vines 
On the sun-lit balcony; now, they see only 

Dismal shadows skulking across the dungeon floor. 

I gave you all my life, to do with as you chose, 

But you passed me by, 
Like some lowly blade along the roadside, 

Forgetting that my blood ran warm, 
And that my heart could ache alike your gentle own. 



37 



Visitation. 

A pleasing fancy, smiled its way 

Into His heart, Dear God, 
And with each exhaling breath 

He poured a soul into our clod. 
O, revel not too gaily, Dust, 

Tis only for a space. 
For God inhales that breath again 

And Death must take its place. 



38 



Little Blossom at My Feet. 



Little blossom at my feet; 

Your mortal brothers have as yet, 
To attain your perfection. 

You are the love of mother nature 

In beautiful form, sprung from her breast. 

Your life is a rare moment in which you take 

Only sunshine and scattered rain-drops, 
Yet, you give all your beauty, freely to the world. 

You are imperfect only in your power to last 

In iridescent form, still tho your petals 
Droop and wither away, and you bid the world adieu, 

Your fragrance remains in the summer air, 
A sweet memory of your life. 

Unlike myself, you may not wander at will, seeking scenes 
To delight your fancy, but must hold your life 

To the spot that holds your heart, still, your happiness 
Is in your own perfection, and in your power 

To delight the senses of those that seek the wonders of God. 

You are perfect in the molding, and beautiful to 

Behold, what must your uncreated like in heaven be ? 

You are a marvelous creation of simplicity, yet the life 
Of you reflects the greatness and beauty of God. 

When I look into your perfumed heart, I find the same 
Touch of the Master Hand has made us two. 

If I could see my soul, I would liken it unto you, 

Blooming only to enjoy the nearness of God, and 
To live within His sight. 

As I breath all your sweetness into my being, so, 
May God also take my life to Him. 



